Left 4tress 2
by okami009
Summary: they were left for dead, and in what seemed like their final hours, they continued to cheat death. They thought they could fight through it all...and now, there's only one left.
1. Chapter 1

This will be my third fanfic, even though I haven't completed either of my first two. Unfortunately, My resistance fanfic will probably never be touched again. Sorry, but I have no inspiration for it, and more importantly, I don't have the game.

However, with my recent addition of Left 4 Dead 2 into my library, I've gotten some inspiration on what to write!~ Unfortunately, I'm still having random spurts of thoughts from my TF2 fic, so this one's coming out weird. For the first time, I'm making a crossover! D8

Don't worry though, both games belong to Valve, so I don't have to write the copyrights for both games into different companies. And because I just stated who they belong to, I don't have to write the copyright! xDDD

So, I present to you, this train-wreck of a fanfic.~

Enjoy~~~~

Ellis slammed the door to the safehouse behind him.

As usual, he shoved the few pieces of furniture against the door to blockade anything that might come in. After pushing the desk right up to it, he shoved his back onto the wall and slumped down onto the floor.

Then he did something he had never done before in this entire nightmare.

He began to cry.

He buried his eyes into his knees as he wrapped his arms around his legs and began to slowly rock back and forth. It had been a disaster. They had only just crossed the swamp and into the village when they had met up with a witch. As usual, they tried to sneak by her without getting caught. But just as they were about to get clear of her, Nick's shotgun went off and hit her in the foot. That was the trouble with using scavenged weapons. You never knew the condition they were in and how reliable they were. Ellis had urged him to stick with the weapon he currently had and just grab some more ammunition, but Nick insisted that he just take another weapon. After all, it was easier than picking out exactly the amount of shells you had lost blowing zombie's brains out.

The Witch was startled and began to charge. The four of them ran into the next house, thinking that they were safe until a smoker shot out and grabbed Rochelle, dragging her away into a mob of undead, and into the clutches of the witch. Ellis made to rescue her, but Coach held him back while Nick held back the remaining zombies, yelling that it was too late, she couldn't be helped.

The remaining three survivors trekked across the bayou and into a partially-sunken house, grabbing a few pills and re-stocking their weapons with heavy hearts. Suddenly, a spitter came in through the entrance which they had just arrived through and shot its spray of corrosive fluids at them. Luckily, her brain was in a state of being rotted out, so she miscalculated the distance of her shot. Unfortunately, her acid happened to hit one of the support beams of the rickety house. Nick had managed to escape the roof caving in, being closest to the exit of the building. Ellis came out of the water as wiped himself off of the remaining spitter goo which clung to his pants. "Well, that was close, huh?" Ellis looked around and found Nick. He looked around some more and only found Nick. It was only when he slowly turned to the wreckage of the house did he find a bloody arm sticking out from underneath the rubble. He easily recognized the glove as Coach's. His eyes widened as he tripped over the planks and began to dig through the rubble, hoping to dear god that he was still alive. About a minute after digging, he found Coach's body, a hole had been burned through his stomach. Ellis turned away in disgust and horror. A defibrillator would not work this time.

The two continued to trudge through the swamp, straining under the weight of two of their fallen comrades. Ellis looked up from his feet and his face brightened up when he saw the safehouse. He nudged Nick to look up and he grinned when he saw it as well. The two ran towards it as fast as they could run through the water. Something roared throughout the bayou as the two froze and turned around. A tank. Of all times. The two desperately backpedaled as the hulk of muscle charged forward, but to no avail. They were two guns too short. As a last-ditch effort, Ellis threw his bottle of boomer-bile a few meters away, where it crashed and released its contents. The tank stopped its assault and turned towards the cloud of green smoke which had attracted the hordes of undead. The survivors dashed towards the safehouse, and had almost made it when Nick froze in his tracks and turned around at the tank. "C'mon, man, let's move!!!" Ellis cried out at a desperate attempt to bring his comrade inside. Nick turned around and ran inside. Ellis slumped against the wall, satisfied that he had saved one friend, but his face turned to a look of concern as Nick threw boxes across the floor, as if looking for something. Nick stopped at one box, and slowly pulled out four pipe-bombs, ready to blow.

Ellis looked at him with a confused stare, but then twisted his face to a look of horror as he realized what Nick was about to do. "No, man! You can't!" Ellis scramble dup to his partner and grasped him by his suit, trying to save his remaining companion. But Nick wouldn't listen. "When I blow these bombs, you make sure that you barricade yourself in here, ok? I'm not sure if the tank will still be alive when I set these off, but it'll definitely be weakened." Nick shoved Ellis backwards and opened the door they had just entered through to see the last bit of boomer bile start to dwindle away, releasing the attention of the horde from the gas to Nick. "I don't have much to gain if I ever make outta here. But you've got a family, friends, people who care about you. All I ever made was enemies. Counting cards until I could open up my own casino, where I just made more and more enemies…" He looked down at his feet in deep thought. Then jerked it back up with unwavering determination. "Tell Keith I said hi." And he bolted out the door.

Ellis dashed towards the door frame and stood still. He could only watch as his last ally threw himself at the tank, but he slammed the door just before he witnessed Nick's demise.

So here he was. Sitting in the safehouse, crying his eyes out for his fallen comrades. All they had been through, all they had suffered, all of it….gone. Out the window, as though it had never existed. There would be no replacements for them. Coach's great words of wisdom, Rochelle's caring, yet violent additude, and Nick's snide and cynical remarks. Though they had their differences, there was no doubt that they never would have made it this far on their own.

But now, what had once been four was one. And here he was, weeping in the corner and wishing to god that he could just end this nightmare right now. He suddenly stopped his rocking and looked up. A few feet in front of him was the magnum Nick had been carrying. Ellis had swapped his pistols for a baseball bat, and his shotgun had long since run out of ammunition. He slowly crawled over to the handgun and grasped it with his hands. The metal was still warm with Nick's touch, since he had it in his hands only a few moments ago. Ellis examined it from a few angles before gripping it as though he were going to shoot something. Then he slowly raised the barrel just below his chin, pointing it upwards into his skull.

But he couldn't fire.

Ellis dropped the gun to the floor and gazed towards the ceiling, tears dropping like rain. The three of them had sacrificed themselves for his sake. Killing himself now would have put all their efforts to waste. All of _their_ efforts. There was no way Ellis would've made it on his own, or any one of the others on theirs. Only through cooperation had they come this far, even if only one of them remained. Ellis glanced over at the shotgun on the table across the room. He puched against the wall and pried himself off the wall towards it. Then he wiped off his remaining tears and grasped it in his hands.

He had realized their purpose. Even if only one person were to be rescued, they all would've survived. It had dawned upon Ellis' mind that he would've done the exact same for them, becoming a martyr for the life of any one of them. And now it was his duty. To make sure that all of them survived in his mind. To make sure their tale of survival would not be forgotten, so that their pages in history would not be wiped away in the sands of time. Ellis grabbed a first-aid kit out of the four that remained. He shoved the magnum into his holster and grabbed a pipe bomb.

It was their turn then.

It was his turn now.

Ellis unbolted the door and kicked it open.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Hi.

Decided to go on with this thing, since I'm kinda bored and I feel like I need to make it up to everyone who I made cry D;

Everything belongs to valve. Except my plot ideas…..I think.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Jeff grasped an underlying branch of the tree next to him as he slumped over to try and regain his breath.

_What the hell happened?_ He thought back to try and recall what happened, though even THAT was tough considering that his mind was moving as fast, if not faster than his feet usually do. To the best of his abilities, he tried to reclaim what happened earlier…

(30 minutes ago)

Jackson was currently staring at his teleporter entrance which he had recently constructed just outside the base in Dustbowl. Usually, he built the entrance just outside the base so that one, his allies could only walk a few steps before taking the RED line express to the front-of-the-battlefield station, and two, so that he wouldn't have to walk back to the base to set it up again. He had made two recent additions to the machine, those being that when he repaired one teleporter, it repaired the other (I'd have to go into detail to explain how he did that, let's just say science is awesome and can do stuff like that) and the other being the improvement of the teleporter's range, so he could transport someone across the globe if the exit was located there.

Recently, they had been moved from Sawmill to Dustbowl due to some flu that had been going around the area. The engineer was more than happy to know that he would be only an hour or so away from his wife and kids, though he was confused as to why they would be "evacuated" as they called it, from an area infected with a minor flu. He asked Wolfgang about it, but the doctor was still annoyed that he would be sent away from precious specimens, so he decided to leave the insane scientist alone. Last he could remember, Jackson had set up a teleporter down at the RED intel, so people going out from the spawn could check up on the intel before heading out, a small habit which the engineer tried to build upon the group ever since their tour through Well.

_Okay, so I should probably dismantle this thing before someone steps on it accidentally._ Just as he finished that thought though, Jeff bursted through the respawn-doors and immediately saw the teleporter. "Thanks for the ride, hard-hat!" and he was teleported away just before the spy back-stabbed the laborer and sapped his teleporter. An unfortunate consequence of Bill's addition was that when one teleporter was sapped, the other one was sapped as well (more science). And so, Jeff was sent all the way back to Sawmill with no way of getting back, as the teleporter exit was destroyed underneath his feet.

One of the first things Jeff saw after emerging from the intel room with some confusion was a BLU heavy a little ways away from him, looking in the opposite direction and moving rather clumsily. The scout found this as an easy target and dismissed the Heavy weapons Guy's awkward movement, since they always seemed to do that. He sprinted up, pulling out his scattergun, and fired into the guy's arm. Since they were the only two there, Jeff considered having some fun picking at the guy rather than killing him altogether.

What he didn't expect was the Heavy's whole arm to fall off. Jeff's expression of confidence quickly melted into one of fear and disgust as the half-rotted arm fell to the ground. Slowly, Jeff looked up as the heavy turned around to face the scout with animalistic white eyes, blood dripping from his mouth. There was no longer a heavy, only an animal who's only purpose in life was to destroy those whom he once knew and to feast upon their flesh. He was no longer the heavy weapons guy.

He was now a zombie.

One mad swipe with the creature's remaining arm was more than enough to snap the scout out of his entranced fear and make a beeline for the bushes, stopping once he was sure that thing would not confront him again. Jeff took a moment to clear his thoughts and remember back to what the Soldier had told him.

"_Alright. People, in this mission your task is to capture the BLU team's intelligence. It looks exactly like our intel, only in a blue briefcase. Now, can anyone tell me what the first thing to do in a war is?"_

_No one answered._

"_RECONAISSANCE! KNOWING THE BATTLEFIELD! That way, you can know just what you're dealing with and how to deal with it! YOU! RIGHT THERE!"_

_Soldier was pointing to Jeff. He looked around sheepishly. "uhm…me?" The war-veteran rolled his eyes behind his helmet. "No, I'm talking to the other 60 scouts in the room, OF COURSE I'M TALKING TO YOU MAAGGOT!" Jeff recoiled slightly._

"_NOW! What is the first thing you do in a battle?!?!" Scout looked to his sides for help. The Spy was too busy smoking and the Pyro was incomprehensible, so he couldn't help anyone. "Uhm…r-reconnaissance?" Soldier stood back with a slightly less intimidating frown. "At least SOMETHING has penetrated that scrawny little skull of yours!" He was about to continue when the scout raised his hand nervously against the raging american. Soldier was not pleased. He hated questions almost as much as he hated the French bastard, but decided to humor the greenhorn. "WHAT is your QUESTION, MAGGOT?!?!"_

"_Uhm…what do we do if that plan fails?"_

_Soldier recoiled, having never been asked that question before. But after a minute of thinking, he came up with a solution. "We do what you do best, son."_

"_Run"_

And so Jeff ran.

And Jeff continued to run, the fear of pains worse than death continuing to nip at his heels with each step. Only stopping a few times to catch his breath, this moment being one of them. He looked up wearily at the large plantation house in front of him. Well, there was most likely no one in there….but at least it would be shelter from the rain that seemed to be starting right now…


	3. Chapter 3

-1Ellis wasn't sure whether he was lucky or not. I guess you could call him lucky. He had made it all the way from the safe room to the plantation house without getting pounced, strangled, ridden or slammed into the ground, probably due to the strange absence of special infected. On the other hand, he did just lose probably his last three friends on earth, so maybe this was compensation for his bad luck.

As if that really made up for them, though. Ellis' real scar had not come from the loss of his allies, but the loss of the only thing which had kept him sane. The social support of Nick, Coach and Rochelle had somehow kept him going through this nightmare of a world. But now that they were gone, Ellis had fallen from his gleeful joke-breaking heartful self into a depressed, paranoid individual who's only current goal was getting to the plantation house. It was sad, really. Ellis was so firm a believer in his own invincibility that he never truly realized that the people around him weren't as invincible as himself.

It was probably due to the lack of so much noise that would normally come from an assortment of four guns now only came from one magnum. Ammo for the powerful handgun was much easier to find than that for his shotgun, so it was as though Ellis never ran out of ammunition. Then again, it wasn't like four guns were eating through every little bit of bullets and shells they had.

Ellis climbed up on the scaffolding to the right of the plantation house and landed in the room below him with a dull thud. That sound echoed through the mansion with the tense and depressing air of loneliness. He stayed crouched there for about a minute, soaking up the hollow feeling before sauntering up and proceeding to the front of the large house.

It was quite amazing, to say the least, that despite the world being torn asunder, this small garden had somehow managed to stay intact. There were a few zombies here and there which were quickly dispatched, but other than the radio there was nothing disturbing the area.

Wait. Radio.

Ellis whipped his head back around to find that the strange static was indeed coming from an old ham radio which still managed to function. It was covered in blood, stunk of rotten sugar, and was almost out of power but still function just enough for Ellis to get the purpose which he needed out of it.

"Hello?"

No response.

Of course, the one time that something actually NEEDED to go right didn't. But who could blame him? The radio was several decades out of date and the only people who would dare to even check what was happening would be the zombies who still had one, or the military, who was far outside the Radio's range. Well, the chopper failed him, and God-made-man-Jimmy-Gibbs could only help him so far. So it was only natural that the last thing he truly needed was refusing to work.

"……h….o…?"

A response? No way. The static was just messing with him. He almost thought there was someone actually responding.

"….h…o…?……y…ne……t…..t…r…?"

Ok, now there was something up. Ellis new he had heard someone talking. He wanted to somehow fix the radio so the signal would come in stronger, just in his time of need. But Ellis could do little more than stare at it blankly with confusion. His expertise was in vehicles, not electronics.

"…pl…se…resp……any…..ou….th…re? Hello? Is anyone out there?"

It seems all those Sundays when Ma forced him to go to church finally paid off.

"Yes?! Hello?!"

"Oh hello, there! Ah ain't from nobody in three days!"

A relieved sigh from Ellis. "Oh, lord, you have no idea how happy I am to hear someone else out here!"

"Someone else? What you be talkin' about?"

Ellis' grin disappeared at this question. Someone else? It occurred to Ellis that this disaster had, in hindsight, only taken about a day or two. There was no way to keep track of time, with the exception of the sun, so it really seemed like so long ago since the four of them had met on that rooftop. Where they had formed a weak alliance which quickly grew into a bond that rivaled that of the camaraderie found in the military.

"Uh, listen. This radio dun have much more power on it left, so I dun have time to explain. Where are you?"

"Ah'm down in the river where Ah've been since yesterday. Ah' just wen out fishing an' when Ah got back, Ah couldn't find anyone to call so dey cou' let me back in. Now where is y'all at?"

"We…" Ellis hesitated. "I-I'm at the plantation house."

A moment of silence from the radio. Ellis was afraid he had somehow angered his only chance of survival.

"Oh, yeah! I know right where dat is! Now you stay right where yah is, ok? I'm gonna come get y'all. What be yer name again?"

"Ellis…My name's Ellis."

"Ah'm Virgil. Ah'll be right der. Be about, ten minutes, alright?"

And just then the radio died.


End file.
